


Ladyworld

by somethingsintheair



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Gen, Lesbians, Slice of Life, i've listened to this song on repeat many times i need an outlet so here it is, ladyworld, or some shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-09-17 14:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9328901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingsintheair/pseuds/somethingsintheair
Summary: Did I mention there were ladies?





	1. Ladyworld

**Author's Note:**

> Ladyworld came out last night and I listened to it too much and I had a vision so here we are
> 
> Maybe I'll have a better summary for this when I actually know where it's going
> 
> (Update 1/15: Chapter 1 has been extended and I regret it strongly)

_“...thanks for tuning in, it’s another beautiful day here in Ladyworld.”_

Doctor Sung smiled as he cranked up his radio. They were in range. Almost there.

_“That’s right, you’ll never see any rain here, unless you wanted to. All you newcomers, remember- everything is free, just don’t forget to tip.”_

“Hey, when are we gonna fire this guy, anyway?” Meouch asked as he turned the volume down. “He creeps me out.”

“That’s not very nice, Commander,” Sung replied, turning the volume up a bit more. A happy medium. “What do you have against JP?”

“His voice is just... I dunno.” Meouch shuddered. “Makes me feel like he’s trying to… _seduce_ me.”

“Well, then he’s doing his job,” Sung commented, “We’re not firing him. Now stop complaining, you’re going to upset our passenger.”

“He does sound a little creepy,” a voice piped up from the backseat.

Meouch whipped his head around to look behind him. He’d almost forgotten she was there. Her name was Carol, she’d told them. A human woman, short but muscular in a way that the commander wasn’t quite used to seeing. He wasn’t complaining, however- she was gorgeous, as all women of Earth were, and he found himself getting a bit lost in her eyes.

A little shove from Sung brought him back to reality, and it was only then he realized that the conversation was going on without him. He gave his head a shake and faced forward again.

“So who runs this place, anyway?” the woman asked.

Sung perked up at the question. “Oh, well, my wife and I--” Meouch nudged his arm. “My, uh… my _lady friend_ \--” Another nudge. “ _Fine,_ my _ex-wife,_ she started this whole thing. It was her idea. But she needed some help, so she asked the band to come along. Of course, this is only half of us, but the other two aren’t really, ah…” He glanced towards Meouch. “How would you… phrase that, Commander?”

“They’re not too good with new people,” Meouch continued, “That’s why it’s usually just us two out on these missions. So, you’re welcome.”

Carol raised an eyebrow. “...Right.”

The landing was smooth, and Meouch was the first to get up and escort Carol out of the ship. Sung followed close behind, only to see the look on the woman’s face… and it was well worth it.

Her eyes went wide, her mouth hanging open in shock. The place was beautiful. A warm, sunny island, filled with all different types of plant life. The dock they stood on had a chrome finish, with added padding on the surface to keep walkers from slipping. In the distance, she could see a cluster of tall glass buildings. Everything was so… shiny, it was unbelievable.

“Holy shit...”

“Welcome to Ladyworld!” Sung greeted with a sweeping motion of his arms.

“It’s beautiful,” Carol said. She was so busy gaping at the landscape that she didn’t notice the tall robot approaching.

“Ah, Ceres!” Sung exclaimed, and Carol jumped when she finally came to. “So good to see you again. How are you?”

She blinked, staring blankly up at the robot. It had a distinctly feminine build, all smooth curves and plump lips and five-inch heels. She was more than a little intimidating, to say the least.

“I am just fine, Doctor,” the robot replied before she turned to face Carol. “Welcome, Carol. Please allow me to direct you t-t-t-t-t-t-” Her voice eventually cut out, and her head twitched a few times before her posture slackened.

“Ah fuck, not again.” Sung let out a sigh as he approached the robot, then gave her a little tap on the shoulder. “Ceres? Sweetie?”

Meouch scoffed. “Even if she could hear you, Doc, you know she wouldn’t answer to that.”

“Well… I suppose you’re not wrong,” Sung replied. “But this is her third breakdown this week, something’s not right here.” He reached down under her knees and lifted her into his arms. “I’ll have to look into this. Commander, would you make sure Carol makes it to her room?”

“Sure thing,” Meouch replied, sliding an arm around Carol’s shoulders. “Sorry about the inconvenience, doll. We’ll make sure you’re havin’ fun in no time.”

Carol scoffed before she wiggled her way out of his hold. “Lead the way, furball.”

 

* * *

 

“WHAT IS IT THIS TIME, DOCTOR?”

Sung looked up from the robot in his arms to see Havve standing before him, arms crossed.

“Oh, uh, she broke down again,” he answered as he stepped past the drummer. “Right in front of a visitor, too.” Carefully, he set Ceres down on his workbench. “What are you doing in here, anyway?”

Havve held up a bottle of machine lubricant. “MY JOINTS WERE GETTING STIFF AGAIN. I COULDN’T FIND YOU, SO I TOOK ACTION.”

“Understandable,” Sung said with a nod, hands hovering over Ceres’s chestplate. “Ah… could you do me a favor and send Phobos over here?” he asked. “I’d rather not get my ass kicked when she wakes up.”

Havve replied with a simple nod before he went out, leaving Sung to stare down at the broken-down bot. Not a hint of rust or decay. She was just as beautiful as they day he’d made her.

Just as he was about to pop off her chestplate, he heard the door open, and he jumped away from the table.

“Ah! Lord Phobos, thank you for--”

He blinked at the sight of the woman at the door. “Carol? What are you doing here?”

“I ditched the furry. This seemed more interesting.”

Sung raised his eyebrows. “Well… alright then,” he said, “I suppose you can stick around. I’m just waiting on-- Oh, there you are!” He smiled as the man entered the room, guitar in tow. “Carol, this is Lord Phobos. Phobos, this is Carol. She just landed here with us.”

Phobos looked the woman up and down, and gave her an awkward little nod before he turned back to Sung. He strummed a questioning chord on his guitar.

“Oh, Ceres is down again,” Sung explained, leading Phobos towards the worktable. “I would’ve asked Havve, but this seems like it’s going to be a more complicated issue than usual. We have to find the root of the problem.”

Phobos swung his guitar around to lie against his back before he reached down with careful hands to pop off her chestplate. Right to work.

“We should look at that same wire, it’s probably loose again,” Sung said as he moved to stand on the other side of the worktable. He watched as Phobos hit her power switch, then began to search around for the wire in question.

“So, why don’t you just do this yourself?” Carol asked Sung after a moment. “Does it really take two guys to find a wire?”

“Uh.” Sung paused. “Y... yes. Yes it does.”

Phobos stopped his movements to look up at the doctor. It was hard to tell behind his mask, but he just knew the guitarist looked disappointed.

" _Fine._ She doesn't like me touching her, so I have to get someone else to do it,” he told Carol, then turned back to Phobos. “Happy?”

Phobos nodded before he turned to his work. Carol just looked confused.

By the time Ceres was up and running again, Carol knew all about how she worked. Mostly because Sung wouldn't stop babbling about it the entire time, but still.

Her visor flashed a couple times before it glowed its usual red, and she turned to face Sung.

“Good morning, _love sensei,_ ” she spoke in a low voice.

There was a pause before Sung's eyes widened, and his face went beet red. “Turn her off.”

Phobos gave Sung a questioning look as Ceres began to lean in towards him.

_“Turn her off.”_

Before she could get any closer, Phobos flicked the power switch, and caught her before she fell back onto the table.

“What the fuck was that?” Carol asked, glancing between the two of them.

“Nothing.” Sung cleared his throat. “It was nothing. Phobos, please check her settings. I'm going to go... lie down for a bit, I think.”


	2. Good times, they await you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meouch meets someone and Sung has a moment.

The Earth woman’s abandonment was a bit of a hit to his ego, but Meouch was sure he still had a chance elsewhere. The place was absolutely _crawling_ with ladies, at least one of them had to be into him, right?

He headed towards the beach. It wasn’t too crowded, it never really was. A few small groups of women were scattered around, mostly human with a few other species sprinkled in. He was most familiar with humans, so that would probably be his best bet. He dug his shades out of his pocket before he strode over towards the nearest woman in a lounge chair, and sat right down in the empty seat next to her.

After being politely told to go fuck himself, he muttered an apology and sulked away. That was fine, he was fine. Plenty of other ladies in Ladyworld, right?

Once he’d given himself a moment to recover from that second blow to his ego, he approached a slightly more friendly-looking woman who was sitting on a blanket. She was in a cherry-red one piece, her brown hair tied up into a bun. Her attention was focused on a magazine.

“Hey there,” he greeted, offering the woman a smile. “Mind if I sit?”

She shifted her attention and took a moment to size him up before she shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

Meouch grinned and settled down on the blanket, sitting a reasonable distance away from the woman. Slowly but surely, he was learning.

“You’re the guy who’s been helping bring everyone here, right?” she asked, looking back down at her magazine. “I’m Claire.”

Meouch’s ears perked up. Most of the women there didn’t even remember him. “Oh, uh, yeah, that was me. Meouch is the name.” He paused before he leaned in towards her. “Might wanna keep that in mind, ‘cause--”

She put a hand up. “Don’t.”

Meouch sat up straight again. What was _up_ with these people? “C’mon,” he said, “Don’t you ever get tired of being surrounded by just… _other women_? Don’t you ever get bored?”

She spared him a glance. “Not particularly, no.”

_“Not at all?”_

Claire let out a long, exasperated sigh as she dropped her magazine. She grabbed Meouch’s arm and pulled him in towards her before she pointed out towards the shore. “See that beauty in the sundress?” she asked. “Red hair, smile that shines like the sun?”

Meouch was a bit taken aback by the sudden contact, but managed to pick out the woman walking barefoot through the shallow water. “Uh… yeah. I see her.”

“That’s my wife.”

Meouch blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“I love her. We’re gay.”

She could almost hear the gears turning in his head as he processed her statement. Then, after what was most likely an inappropriate amount of time, he finally spoke.

_“...Oh.”_

_“Yeah,_ dipshit,” she replied, releasing his arm from her hold. “So if you’re looking to get some, I’d recommend going elsewhere. We’re not looking to spice anything up anytime soon.”

Meouch didn’t respond at first, just watching the girl on the shore. “Wait, so… what, you _only_ like girls?”

Claire rolled her eyes. “I would think you’d at least want to buy me dinner before you start asking questions about my personal life.” She leaned back on her hands. “I like girls, yeah. Particularly the one I married.”

Meouch nodded as he followed her gaze again. She was looking at the other woman in a certain way that made her eyes sparkle. It was… different than what he was used to. “Yeah, she’s… real pretty,” he said, “What’s her name?”

Claire smiled fondly. “Piper.” 

Meouch nodded. “Hm. And you guys are… you’re married?”

“Yeah. And what better place for a honeymoon?” She chuckled, then raised an eyebrow at Meouch. “You don’t… talk to many lesbians, do you?”

Meouch cleared his throat. “Well, uh… not really, no,” he admitted.

She giggled. “I can tell.”

Meouch let out a little sheepish laugh. “Well… we both like ladies, right? That’s gotta count for something.”

“Oh yeah, of course,” Claire agreed. “But I saw you up there with that other lady. Maybe I can give you some pointers so I don’t have to watch you walk away with your tail between your legs again.”

 

* * *

 

“Okay, no, you have to explain this to me now.”

Sung groaned. All he’d wanted was some rest. He rarely wanted rest. He just needed it this one time.

“I don’t wanna get into it, alright?” Sung said. Carol had been following him since he stepped outside, nagging him for details about his personal life. “It’s… not good, bad memories.”

“But… _love sensei._ There’s gotta be a story behind that. You said she was your ex-wife.”

“I did, yes. And that’s all you need to know.”

“Come on,” Carol gave his arm a little punch before she lowered her voice. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Sung groaned in aggravation before he stopped in his tracks. “You… won’t mention it again if I tell you?”

“Promise.”

He sighed and kept walking. “I created her,” he began, “I programmed her to be the perfect wife. But as I started to work on her more, make her technology more advanced, we drifted apart. She was becoming her own person. She had her own wants and needs that I… couldn’t satisfy. So she left me.”

“...Are you crying?”

“No,” Sung said, tears running down his cheeks. “I’m happy for her. I-I… I’m glad she’s doing well.” He choked out a sob, and Carol awkwardly reached over to pat his back.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she said, “There’s, uh… there’s other fish in the sea. I mean, you’re on an island full of girls, right?”

“All they wanna do is date _each other!”_ Sung cried.

“...Oh?” Carol blinked. She took a glance around them. “Where, uh… where is everyone, anyway?” she asked. “I… haven’t been able to meet any of the other residents yet.”

Slowly, Sung lifted his head to look up at her. He let out a little huff before he pointed in the direction of the residences. “Go to the front desk, they’ll tell you where your place is.”

Carol gave him another little reassuring pat before she was off.


	3. ICQ out in the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Havve has a friend and Phobos takes a walk.

Havve had just about had his fill of bullshit for the day, and he was on back to the Groove Station when he felt a tug on his belt. He spun around, tilted his head down, and locked eyes with a small human wearing large, round glasses. The face looked familiar, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint where he’d met them…

Havve crossed his arms. “WHAT IS IT, TINY HUMAN?”

The human held up a stack of papers, and he glanced at the title at the top of the first page. _Mechanical Rage - Draft 1._

Ah, yes. He remembered now. The writer.

Casey, they’d told him. He met them once before, weeks ago. The human didn’t speak (and frankly, Havve quite liked that about them), but they could communicate by writing things down. They’d shown him a rough draft of a prologue from their novel, and at first, he was uninterested. But upon realizing the novel would cover the adventures of a gang of murderous robots out to destroy the human race, he was intrigued.

“AH, YES. THANK YOU.” He took the papers from their hands. “I WILL READ IT AT MY LEISURE.”

Casey smiled and gave him a little wave before they were off.

Havve was in a good mood as he ventured towards the Groove Station. A rare occasion, that was. But it wasn’t often that he could walk home by himself, sit down, and read a beautiful story of death and bloodshed. He knew he was in for a pleasant evening.

* * *

At night, Phobos liked to take out his acoustic guitar. Sometimes he’d sit out on the beach and use the sounds of crashing waves as accompaniment. Sometimes he'd sit on the roof of the Groove Station and unknowingly lull his friends to sleep. But every now and then, he liked to go for a walk. 

He played a jumpy, lighthearted tune as he strolled along the sidewalk, not paying much attention to his surroundings. He had been sure to avoid the residential areas, so as not to wake anyone, but he seemed to have gotten a bit lost along the way. Not that he minded much, really-- he could always find his way back. He knew he was somewhere between the Groove Station and the rest of Ladyworld, at least. 

He soon transitioned into a slower melody, one that seemed more appropriate for that starry night. People seemed to like the calmer tunes more, even when he played during the day. He’d always attract a bit of an audience then, the women fawning over him in a way that always made him a little anxious. He never did particularly like being the center of attention; it was much easier to manage when he was playing with the rest of the band. 

He took a deep breath in and sighed, letting his head fall back. He could hear a faint clicking sound from his respirator, and he realized it was probably long overdue for some maintenance. How long had it been since Sung last looked at it? It must’ve been weeks, months even. He’d have to ask about that when he got back, if the doctor was still awake-- 

Phobos suddenly lurched forward, and his brain barely had time to catch up before he slammed face-down onto the pavement. All at once he heard an unpleasant crack, the discordant sounds of his guitar hitting the ground, and felt his hearts pounding in his chest when the situation finally became apparent. 

He’d tripped. And two very delicate, very _important_ items had broken his fall. 

He lay still for nearly a full minute, processing what had just happened. The body of his guitar was digging into his stomach at an awkward angle. He could feel shards of his helmet poking into his skin. He wasn’t even sure which parts of it had broken, but he was afraid to open his eyes and find out. He tried to inhale, slowly, just to try things out. He found it… considerably difficult to do so. 

It was a really bad time to panic, but he was totally going to do it anyway. He was just about ready to start hyperventilating when he felt something nudging his side. 

“LORD PHOBOS.” 

He let out a deep sigh of relief, and was quick to mentally chastise himself for wasting his breath. He made a blind grab towards the air and Havve pulled him to sit upright, guitar and all. Phobos immediately went to look at his guitar. Two of the strings had broken, and it was hard to see much in the dark, but he could just make out a few scratches along the body. 

_Fuck._

“YOUR RESPIRATOR IS BROKEN.” 

Phobos waved a hand dismissively at Havve. He could see the shattered material in front of him, the crack in his visor, and he could feel his breaths getting shorter and harder. But none of that really mattered to him at the moment. 

“I BELIEVE THE DOCTOR IS AT HOME. I’M SURE HE CAN ASSIST.” 

Before Phobos had time to protest, Havve grabbed the guitar and put the strap over his head to let it hang against his back. He grabbed Phobos next, an arm hooked under his waist as he carried him along like a piece of luggage.


	4. Proud to be your friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Havve reads and Sung comes to a realization.

The Groove Station was a surprisingly humble home, modeled specifically after the traditional suburban Earth house. Inside was a living room that led into a small kitchen (in which Sung insisted on having a weekly “family dinner”). A small study also branched off from the living room, although it was rarely used. Upstairs, they each had their own bedroom (save for Havve, who didn’t particularly care where he settled down to charge).

Upon seeing the damage done to Phobos’s helmet, Sung looked like he was just about ready to pass out. But the initial shock faded quickly enough, and he was able to stay calm enough to get Phobos under more stable conditions.

“You know, I want to be upset with you,” Sung said as he adjusted the straps on Phobos’s backup respirator-- a small rubber mask they used for emergencies. “But the mental image of you eating shit on the pavement is just too much for me to be mad about.” Even with Phobos’s mouth covered, Sung could tell he was pouting. “How’s your face? Everything okay?”

Phobos nodded. His jaw ached a little bit, but luckily, the helmet seemed to have taken most of the impact. He was far more concerned about his guitar, which he was quick to tend to after Sung let him go. He took it upstairs with a clear sense of urgency, hoping to find Meouch for some assistance.

Sung, on the other hand, found a comfortable place sitting cross-legged on the carpet. “Could you hand me my tools, Havve?” he asked, already dismantling the broken parts of the helmet. 

It took a solid five seconds for Havve to look up from his reading and process the question. He had been sitting on the couch since he arrived. “WHAT?”

“The toolbox, please. Under the coffee table.”

Havve reached down and slid the toolbox across the floor.

“Thanks. Whatcha reading there?”

Havve had already turned his attention back to his reading material. “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.”

The doctor just shrugged before he got to work, pulling the helmet apart to diagnose the problem. It wasn’t the first time he had to disassemble the helmet for repairs, but it had never been quite this bad. He would likely have to replace the visor in its entirety, possibly even the respirator as well. But if he’d wired a drum machine to Havve’s cardiovascular system, he was perfectly capable of replacing some parts in a helmet. 

Things were going rather smoothly, although by then he was sure he was going to need some replacement parts. But all the parts he had were in his workshop, and he wanted to get everything fixed as soon as possible, so he decided a little late night walk was in order.

“Havve, I’m going to my workshop,” he said as he stood, gathering the pieces of the helmet in his arms. “I’ll be back in... well, by morning, at least. We’ll see how things go.”

Havve nodded dismissively. He’d be just fine on his own.

Just as Sung reached to open the front door, it swung open and knocked him right off his feet-- along with everything he had been holding. “H-hey, what the fu--”

His eyes widened when he looked up. It was Ceres. He scrambled to get everything back together, frazzled and far too scared to look up again.

“Sorry. Didn’t know you were there.” Sung was surprised when she crouched down and started helping him pick everything up. His face felt hot as he mumbled a soft word of thanks. They hadn’t spoken since the last incident, had they?

“Where were you going?” Ceres asked as they both stood. She was holding the broken respirator in one hand, and a piece of the visor in the other. “I came to speak to you.”

“To... to me?” Sung asked, his gaze trained on the wall. “Oh, um, yeah, I was heading over to the workshop, Phobos’s helmet, I...” He trailed off, then nodded towards the door. “Ah, you can... you can join me, if you’d like.”

Ceres shrugged. “Sure.”

“Okay, wonderful, wonderful.” Sung cleared his throat. “Ah... Havve, yes, I’ll be back later. Check in on Phobos in a while, please.”

Havve just blinked his eyes in response, too focused to bother with anything else.

The other two stepped outside in silence, minus the sound of Sung’s heart pounding in his ears. He didn’t like confrontation. Well, _usually,_ he didn’t mind it much, but confrontation with Ceres was a whole different problem. In short, she fucking terrified him.

“So. About what happened earlier.”

Sung nearly dropped everything again, he was so startled by the sound of her voice. He cleared his throat again. Keep it cool. “Yes... what about it?”

“Phobos explained what happened when I woke up.”

“...Oh?”

“Oh yes.” Ceres laughed- the synthesised, high pitched giggle that Sung loved so much. “And I knew you would react like this. You’re very predictable, you know.”

Sung huffed. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t realize that... that programming was still in there, a-and I never expected it to come back, I-”

“Hey,” Ceres interrupted. “Sung, it’s okay. I understand. I know you wouldn’t do something like that on purpose.”

“Well... okay.” Sung sighed in relief. “Did Phobos fix the initial problem, at least?”

“It seems so. Everything feels fine.”

“Good, good.” Sung nodded, finally managing to calm himself down somewhat. She wasn’t angry, she wasn’t upset. They were just... talking. “I, uh, might be able to remove that component completely,” he offered. “You know, the, um... the old programming.”

Ceres seemed to perk up at that. “You could?”

“I mean, yeah, I could try.” Sung let out a chuckle. “All my original notes from building you are still in the workshop. I’m sure I could find it, at least.”

“I would like that, yes,” Ceres said with a nod. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He took a deep breath in, and exhaled slowly. No more panicking, he was fine. She wasn’t angry, she wasn’t disappointed in him, she wasn’t going to say anything mean (not that she ever did, really, that was more of an irrational fear on his part). She almost sounded... happy.

Ceres was the first to step into the workshop, and Sung looked her up and down as he followed. Even from an objective standpoint, she really was a beautiful creation, and Sung took pride in his hard work. He’d essentially created a sentient machine, one that had enough free thought to leave him of her own accord. Really, she was amazing.

“I don’t like being afraid of you,” he blurted out rather suddenly, only half meaning to do so. Ceres just turned her head to look at him, a small question mark flashing on her visor. “I don’t know, I’m just... I’m sick of tiptoeing around you when I don’t even have a good reason to. I’m sick of not just... talking, like we used to. I... I just want my friend back, you know?”

Ceres paused as she set the pieces down on the worktable. “I understand.” Her visor flashed again, but he couldn’t tell what it said from that angle. “I don’t mean to scare you. I do enjoy your company, despite how it may seem sometimes.”

Sung blinked, still frozen in the doorway. “Wait, really?”

“Of course,” Ceres replied with another laugh. “I don’t want to be your wife, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be your friend.”

“R... really?”

“Yes, really. Are you crying?”

Sung wiped a tear from his cheek. “No.”

“Right. Anyways, I would love to speak again, as we used to,” Ceres said. Sung was still standing in the same place, so she took the pieces from him to set down as well. “So long as you stop acting like a flustered mess around me. I can’t talk to someone who’s afraid to talk back.”

“O-of course, yeah,” Sung said with a nod, his voice a little shaky. “I’ll try to be less... um.”

“Cowardly?”

“Sure, let’s... go with that.”

 

* * *

 

Back at the Groove Station, things were going much more smoothly, conversation-wise. Phobos had successfully replaced the broken strings on his guitar, and had instead settled on staring at the scratches in the body.

“Listen, bud, it’s nothing to get worked up about. Scratches… they build character, or somethin’,” Meouch assured, taking the guitar from Phobos’s hands. He put the man’s arm through the strap and hung the guitar over his shoulder. “Shows experience. And it still works okay, doesn’t it?”

Phobos hesitated before he grabbed a pick and played out a careful response.

Meouch sighed. “Yeah, I know it’s important to you, but you’ve had this for so long-- and you’ve never even played it onstage. What’s a few scratches gonna do?”

Phobos played another response, this one much shorter.

“I know you’re upset. But whining about it isn’t gonna do you any good,” Meouch reasoned. “Here, one sec.” He stepped out of the room then, and returned shortly after with his acoustic bass. It too was littered with scratches and dents.

“See? Mine’s fucked too. We can still make this work, c’mon.” He sat down on Phobos’s bed before he started playing, a simple rhythm that invited the other man to play along. As expected, Phobos paused to listen briefly before he jumped right in-- he couldn’t resist.


	5. That's what I programmed her for

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sung puts his hands in his wife.

It had been months since Sung had worked on Ceres by himself-- at her request, these types of things were usually left to Phobos. But it was still all so familiar to him, like he’d built her body just days ago.

Her consciousness came before anything. He started out by making a simple program on his shitty old computer. She was slow at first, her voice was grainy and monotone. But to him, she was already beautiful. After a lot of tinkering with the program, she had expressed the desire for a body-- her first display of an individual thought, and a huge milestone in her development.

He was quick to accept the task. He was awfully lonely where he was, and for him, loneliness was a very bad thing. A computer program was something, but a physical, mobile being would be a whole new experience, wouldn’t it? This way, there could be… touch. Physical contact. It was vital to his well-being, after all.

They worked together on a design. She had the final say, of course, but without a fully developed consciousness, she had some trouble coming up with ideas on her own. The design they eventually settled on was something they both liked, and Sung knew he would be capable of making it.

They worked very well together, and they really did love each other. She was always meant to be his wife. His lifelong companion. And even by her own free will, she still loved him and cared about him. He’d truly created something beautiful, both inside and out.

“You’re not still in love with me, are you?”

The question jerked Sung right out of his reminiscence and his hand slipped, dropping a screwdriver into her chest cavity. He blinked for a second before he rushed to retrieve it. “S-sorry, um… what?”

“I asked if you were still in love with me,” Ceres repeated. “Because if you are, that’s going to complicate things. A lot.”

“Oh.” Sung frowned. “Well, I mean… I don’t think I ever really was,” he replied. “ _In love_ with you, I mean. I don’t really… I mean, the whole concept of romance, I never really...” He shrugged. “Well, you know, I obviously know what it _is,_ in theory, but I never... quite understood. And that was never my intention when I built you.”

“Really?” Ceres turned her head to look at him. “Before I chose my name, you referred to me exclusively as ‘Computer Wife.’”

“Well, _yeah,_ but… fuck, that was just a way to refer to you, you know? I wanted a companion, someone who would stick around. And... well, that seemed to fit the description perfectly. A _wife._ And… you know, I really liked having you as a wife.” Sung let out a sigh. “And... when you left, I didn’t… I didn’t _get_ it. I thought you didn’t care about me anymore. I always figured you hated me after that.”

“...Well.” Ceres paused. “I never hated you. I just assumed you would be a little upset with the fact that your wife wanted to see other people. I didn’t think you would want to speak to me anymore.”

“What?” Sung shook his head. “I didn’t care about that.” He’d stopped working for the moment, putting all his attention on their discussion. “I didn’t give you free will just to tell you what you can and can’t do, that doesn’t make any sense. If you wanted to interact with others, I wasn’t going to _stop_ you from doing so.” He was getting a little heated then-- his voice had gone up almost a full octave from its usual tone. “That would be terrible! I know I can be controlling, but I’m not _that_ controlling! I wanted you to be my companion, not my _slave!_ What kinda guy do you take me f--”

“Sung.”

Sung let out a groan as he slumped over, resting his forehead on the cool metal table. “What?”

“Breathe. Your face is going red.”

Sung huffed. His whole body felt so tense. He always hated getting worked up so easily, but sometimes, he just couldn’t help it.

“Hey. Sung. It’s okay.”

He felt a pair of hands cup his cheeks and gently lift his head off of the table. He was face-to-face with Ceres, and her lips were curved into a smile-- a rare occasion, since she only ever did it with intention. 

“It was a misunderstanding,” Ceres explained. “I never hated you. I don’t think I ever could. And I don’t think that’s just because of my programming, either.” Her hands drifted back towards his ears, and she started rubbing her thumbs over their pointed tips. His reaction was almost instantaneous. With a relaxed sigh, he let his eyes flutter closed. 

“I love you,” she continued, “I always have, and I always will. I’m sorry for the miscommunication.”

Sung shook his head slightly. “Oh, no, it’s, um…” His voice faltered for a moment as he leaned in closer. “It’s… I understand now. It’s okay.”

“Good. Do you... think you could finish me up now? I’m feeling a bit of a draft.”

Sung opened his eyes, and realized that her chest cavity was still wide open. “Oh! Yeah, uh, of course.” He let out an awkward laugh as Ceres pulled back and lay back down on the table. “I just need to hook you up to the computer now, and I should be able to disable the programming from there. Just let me know if anything, uh… feels weird.” He grabbed some cables from a drawer in his desk, and started to connect them to the ports in her chest.

“Hey, what… brought on that question, anyway?” Sung asked after a moment. ”About, uh. Me being in love with you.”

“Oh. Well, you know… Carol?” Ceres asked. “The woman who just arrived here?”

“Ah, yes. I meant to check in on her, I haven’t heard from her since she got here.” Sung raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“We have a date this afternoon.”

Sung paused to give his brain a second to catch up. Once the initial surprise faded, a grin spread across his face. “Oh?”


End file.
